Coming to New York
by deathbearABC123
Summary: After the Titanic Rose arrives in America looking to live her own life.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: _Titanic_ is owned by FOX and _BioShock_ is owned by 2K and Irrational Games. I own nothing.**

* * *

April 1912

New York. She was finally here, after years Rose was finally back. Once she got off this boat she would fulfill her promise to Jack and live her life to the fullest, but not as Rose DeWitt-Bukater rather as Rose Dawson. Giving that name to the attendant would ensure that she had died during the sinking of the _Titanic_ as well as ensure her mother and Cal wouldn't try and pursue her. Not to mention it gave her a sense of comfort to have Jack's name. Their time spent together had been short, but she found more happiness in those few days with Jack than she did her entire engagement to Cal.

Her main concern was how she was going to make it in America. She was starting over completely her family's money was all but gone, hence her betrothal to Cal whom she refused to ever see again.

There was always her dream of becoming an actress and it could be her first step in fulfilling her promise and living her own life. But the fact still remained that at the moment she had no place to go and little to no money. The only option she could think of now was such a long shot that it would probably end up getting her nowhere, but she had to try, she knew the chances were slim but she still had to know for sure.

When her father had still been alive he had once mentioned that a small branch of the family had expended most of their wealth and were now facing financial turmoil. Many of them had taken the news rather hard and opted to either flee the country or take their own lives. The only one her father knew to still be alive was working in New York as a detective, but due to a strained relationship with that branch of the family contact was non-existent.

If this man was still living here there was the smallest of possibilities that he might be able to help in some way. In order to find him Rose made her way to a phone booth and asked the operator for the address of detectives with the surname DeWitt. The operator told her that there was only one man with that name working in the detective agency and gave her the address to his apartment.

* * *

With what little money she had on her she took a taxi to the address she had been given. Her first impression of the complex was that it was in need of improvement. Windows on the lower floor were cracked and dirty, the bricks were chipped, and it smelled like cigarette smoke.

Taking a deep breath she walked in and found that it was even worse on the inside. The wallpaper was peeling, floor tiles were missing, and the ceiling light kept flickering which would most likely result in her getting a headache. At the front desk sat a short balding man reading a newspaper, not even acknowledging Roses presence.

"Excuse me," Rose said to the man she assumed to be the building manager. "I was looking for a Mr. DeWitt. Is he here?"

"Third floor," the man said not even looking up from the paper. "The elevator is busted so take the stairs."

Rose would have said thank you, but it probably would have fallen on deaf ears so she began her ascent to the third floor. Once there she spotted a door with the writing: **Booker DeWitt. Investigations into matters both public and private**. She reached out her hand and knocked three times in quick succession.

Soon after she was greeted with a rather gruff, "Who is it?!" from the other side of the door.

"Mr. DeWitt?" Rose asked.

"Who is it?!" the gruff voice asked again. "I'm not going to ask again."

"Mr. DeWitt you don't know me but…," _Should I give him my real name_? Rose wondered to herself. She was starting as Rose Dawson now, but if there was the slightest chance…, "My name is Rose DeWitt-Bukater." She said her last name rather quickly as if she were expecting her mother to show up at any moment.

Silence came from the other side of the door until she heard the sound of a lock being turned and the twisting of the doorknob. Standing before her now was a tall man with brown hair which flowed to the right, he had a fair amount of stubble on his face which boasted very strong features as well as fierce green eyes. Booker DeWitt.

Booker stepped to the side and silently gestured for her to come in.

* * *

Rose stepped into a decent sized room that held a desk, a bed that covered rotting floorboards, a dresser, a table with two chairs, and an oven. There was a door on the left side which Rose could only guess led to another room.

Booker closed the door behind her walked over to the table, grabbed one of the chairs and put it in front of his desk. Rose took the hint and sat down. Booker then seated himself behind the desk.

"Alright," he said. "What is this about Miss-,"

"Just Rose is fine," she cut him off not wanting to hear her full name out loud again.

"Alright then Rose. What is this about?" As he spoke Rose picked up the smell of alcohol on his breath. "After all I didn't even think your branch of the family even remembered I existed."

"Well you see Mr. DeWitt," Rose began, "I was on the _Titanic_."

Booker only nodded his head at the news. "I heard what happened. Hell the whole world's probably going to be talking about it. Let me guess: you want me to see if I can find out if any of your family survived? Track them down for you?"

"No," Rose told him. "I already know the answer to that."

"Okay so if you already know that then what else can I do for you?" Booker asked no doubt confused as to why she was here.

"I made a promise that I would live my life Mr. DeWitt," rose told him. "And I plan to do just that."

"I'm still not seeing how this concerns me," Booker dryly stated.

"I plan on becoming an actress."

"Uh-huh."

"The only problem is I'm starting over new, I won't go back to my mother and I need a place to stay for a few days just until I can provide for myself."

"Whoa whoa whoa," Booker said putting up his hands, allowing for Rose to get a glimpse of a mark on his right hand. "You show up to a strange relatives home and ask to live with them?"

"Only for a few days," Rose said again, but Booker only shook his head. "Once I find a job I'll be out of your hair."

"Look you mentioned your mother go to her you'd be better off."

"If I did that I wouldn't get to live my life," Rose told him. "I don't have a lot of money right now as it is, but once I get a job I can pay for an apartment and pay you back as well." Rose looked over to the shut door, Booker followed her gaze. "If you have an extra room I can-,"

"No," Booker said in a rather menacing tone, his hands gripping his desk so hard his knuckles were turning white. "You can stay in the street, you can stay in a box for all I care, but you will not stay in that room!"

Rose sat stock still not daring to move or say anything that might upset him even further. Booker seemed to realize how much he had frightened her and brought a hand up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose.

As he did Rose got a clear view of the mark on his hand. The letters: AD.

"Look," Booker said once he calmed himself down, "if you're that desperate for money and refuse to go to your mother, why don't you just sell what you got in your coat pocket? That's what I would do."

Rose's eyes widened. The diamond. "How do you…"

"Part of the chain is sticking out." Taking a look down Rose saw it and quickly tucked it back in. "Now I don't know what it is, but I bet you could get decent cash for whatever it is."

"I could probably get a lot more than decent cash for this, but I won't sell it."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Because I don't need _his_ help or my mother's." Rose stared Booker straight in his eyes. "But I am asking for yours."

Booker stared back before scoffing. He got out of his chair and walked over to the bed in the corner. He lifted the mattress and reached for something underneath. Rose leaned forward in her seat to see what it was only for Booker to toss it on the desk in front of her.

It was a small stack of money. "It's not a lot but it's what I can spare. It should be enough for you to get a cheap apartment or something. Build your life from there."

"Thank you Mr. DeWitt," Rose said as she picked up the stack. "But why the sudden change of heart?"

A solemn look worked its way onto Booker's face as he walked to the door leading into the hallway and opening it. "Let's just say that I know firsthand what it's like to take a young girls future away and I don't really feel like feeling that again."

Rose stood and made her way to the exit knowing that this would be all Booker would do, which was fine with her. If she was smart with the money she could make it until she found a solid acting job.

"And for the record," Booker said just as she exited his office, "don't ever come back unless you have a case for me." He closed the door ending their first and only meeting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: _Titanic_ is owned by FOX and _BioShock_ is owned by 2K and Irrational Games. I own nothing.**

* * *

April 1912

New York. She was finally here, after years Rose was finally back. Once she got off this boat she would fulfill her promise to Jack and live her life to the fullest, but not as Rose DeWitt-Bukater rather as Rose Dawson. Giving that name to the attendant would ensure that she had died during the sinking of the _Titanic_ as well as ensure her mother and Cal wouldn't try and pursue her. Not to mention it gave her a sense of comfort to have Jack's name. Their time spent together had been short, but she found more happiness in those few days with Jack than she did her entire engagement to Cal.

Her main concern was how she was going to make it in America. She was starting over completely her family's money was all but gone, hence her betrothal to Cal whom she refused to ever see again.

There was always her dream of becoming an actress and it could be her first step in fulfilling her promise and living her own life. But the fact still remained that at the moment she had no place to go and little to no money. The only option she could think of now was such a long shot that it would probably end up getting her nowhere, but she had to try, she knew the chances were slim but she still had to know for sure.

When her father had still been alive he had once mentioned that a small branch of the family had expended most of their wealth and were now facing financial turmoil. Many of them had taken the news rather hard and opted to either flee the country or take their own lives. The only one her father knew to still be alive was working in New York as a detective, but due to a strained relationship with that branch of the family contact was non-existent.

If this man was still living here there was the smallest of possibilities that he might be able to help in some way. In order to find him Rose made her way to a phone booth and asked the operator for the address of detectives with the surname DeWitt. The operator told her that there was only one man with that name working in the detective agency and gave her the address to his apartment.

With what little money she had on her she took a taxi to the address she had been given. Her first impression of the complex was that it was in need of improvement. Windows on the lower floor were cracked and dirty, the bricks were chipped, and it smelled like cigarette smoke.

Taking a deep breath she walked in and found that it was even worse on the inside. The wallpaper was peeling, floor tiles were missing, and the ceiling light kept flickering which would most likely result in her getting a headache. At the front desk sat a short balding man reading a newspaper, not even acknowledging Roses presence.

"Excuse me," Rose said to the man she assumed to be the building manager. "I was looking for a Mr. DeWitt. Is he here?"

"Third floor," the man said not even looking up from the paper. "The elevator is busted so take the stairs."

Rose would have said thank you, but it probably would have fallen on deaf ears so she began her ascent to the third floor. Once there she spotted a door with the writing: **Booker DeWitt. Investigations into matters both public and private**. She reached out her hand and knocked three times in quick succession.

* * *

The sound of footsteps was heard and the door open just enough for Rose to come face with a young woman around her age with dark hair tied in a low ponytail, and large blue eyes. "Hello," the other girl said. "Can I help you?"

"I was just wondering if Mr. DeWitt was in," Rose explained.

"Anna," a man's voice called from the other side. "Who is it?"

"Someone for you dad," the girl now known as Anna answered back. "Come on in," Anna told Rose as she opened the door fully to allow her entry.

The room itself was of modest size there was a bed in the far right corner that covered rotting floorboards, a table for two and an oven on the left side next to a closed door, and to the back a desk where a man with wavy brown hair and a fair amount of stubble sat drinking from a coffee mug whilst reading the paper.

Anna went over to the table grabbed one of the chairs and put it in front of the desk. Booker looked up his paper and nodded in thanks to his daughter. Anna nodded back as she gestured for Rose to sit down before opening the closed door and entering the room.

As Rose sat down a look of recognition seemed to cross Booker's face for a moment and gave Rose the distinct impression that he seemed to know who she was. Impossible considering this was their first meeting.

"So," Booker said starting the conversation, "who are you and how can I help you?"

"Well you don't know me Mr. DeWitt, but my name is…," _Should I give him my real name_? Rose thought. She was starting over as Rose Dawson now, but if there was the slightest chance he would be able to help…, "Rose DeWitt-Bukater."

A passive and thoughtful look worked its way onto Booker's face, but in the blink of an eye it vanished. "Is it alright if I just call you Rose?" He asked.

"Yes," she quickly answered. "I would prefer that actually."

"Well judging by your last name I take it you're from that other branch of the family?" Rose nodded. "Huh, well after that falling out and those financial troubles I thought I would have been forgotten." He shook his head. "Enough about that. What can I do for you Rose?"

"You see Mr. DeWitt I was on the _Titanic_."

"Oh," Booker said but he didn't seem too surprised. "I heard about what happened. Sorry you had to go through something like that." Rose just nodded as her mind drifted to the memory of her and Jack floating in the freezing water of the North Atlantic. "Is there anyone you want me to see made it out?" However the way he said it gave Rose the impression he already knew the answer.

"No," She told him. "I already know the answer."

"You don't even want me to try and contact your mother?"

"I never said my mother made it off."

"No, but considering your class and her gender she would have made it on a lifeboat," Booker explained. "A detective is quick to pick up on these things. I only asked because I thought you might want to see her. Anna's mother died shortly after giving birth you see, and Anna was always asking about her."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rose told him. "But if I met with my mother I wouldn't get to live my own life."

"So you're looking to start new? Looking for a place to stay until you land on your feet then?" Booker quickly guessed. "And you think I can help?"

"I would never mean to impose Mr. DeWitt, I would only need a place to stay until my career takes off."

"We're pretty tight on money as it is," Booker told her. "With Anna attending university we plan on moving out in a few months so the best I could do is spare a few dollars. It's not a lot but it's all I can do."

"Oh, I understand Mr. DeWitt," Rose said. "Thank you." As she made to get up from the chair the Anna emerged from her room.

"You know I might be able to help."

"Oh," Booker said raising an eyebrow. "Eavesdropping were you?" he said with a hint of playfulness.

"It can hardly be called eavesdropping when the walls are paper thin," Anna quickly quipped back. "But if you need a place to stay I made a friend in university who has her own apartment and is looking for a roommate. If you want I can give her a call."

"You would do that?" Rose asked the other girl.

"She's too much like her mother," Booker remarked. "It's not in her nature to not help someone." He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a few coins which he tossed to Anna. "Go give her a call. You too Rose go see if you can set up a meeting or something."

"Thank you," Rose said. "Both of you this, this really means a lot to me."

Booker only nodded his head as turned his attention back to his paper as the two young women went to leave the apartment. "Oh one more thing," Booker said stopping Rose before she could leave. "You might want to tuck that chain in your coat pocket. You wouldn't want anyone taking it, it's probably worth more than decent cash."

* * *

 **A/N: I decided to include a second chapter to the story based on the ending to Infinite and the idea of the different realities existing. Thank you for reading.**


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